Joe Doughty had been listening to the foregoing conversation, and hence it was he was oblivious to the fact that a stranger had entered the room.
The newcomer threaded his way through the assembly until he had gained the further end of the room.
It was at this time that Doughty’s attention was attracted towards him. There was something in the movements and gait of the man which made Joe pause and consider.
He looked hard at the newcomer, and saw that he was a man with a bushy beard, long elfin locks, and a green shade over his eyes. He did not appear to be acquainted with any of the vagrants, and Joe thought this a little singular.
He seated himself on one of the benches and remained moody and silent for some little time; after which he rose suddenly, and wended his way back to the entrance of the room.
As he passed along there was a peculiarity in his movement which caused Joe Doughty to regard him with a searching glance.
“I dunno what to mek on him,” murmured Joe. “’Taint a bit loike the varmint I am in search of: but he be creeping along in a rum sort of way—a deal arter the fashion o’ Giles—but it can’t be him—and yet, I don’t feel quite sartain—I’ll wait and watch. Maybe he’ll coom back and let un see a bit more on him.”
But Joe was wrong in his surmise. The man with the green shade and bushy whiskers did not return.
Half-an-hour passed over, and the stranger did not again reappear.
The landlord came into the room once more to attend to his customers. As he passed, Joe said—